Friday, March 21, 2014

Dead Rite chapter 171.07


“I know several people who would consider that racist. Speciesist at the very least, though they're often just as guilty of it themselves.” Harold used a piece of kitchen towel to pick up the offending cereal and dropped it into the rubbish bin. “Though extend the assumption to imps and you wouldn't be far from the mark.” He tried inserting the bread into the toaster but could no more get it to work than Lucy had. “Not demons, no. Germs are microscopic.”

Amélie looked blank. Not that he could tell otherwise with her eyes looking like oval windows into the Seventh Circle.

“Tiny.” He held his thumb and forefinger as close together as he could. “Really really small.”

“They say a thousand angels can dance on the head of a pin.”

“You believe that, do you?”

“Of course.”

“I've never once seen an angel dance.”

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